Enlarge image
Kitchen fats were salvaged for the glycerine they contained. This
substance was then used in a number of vital war products, most
importantly explosives. (Folder 8, Box 30, Defense Council, OSA)

"It Is Astonishing the Amount of Waste
Being Gathered Up"
Even before America's entry into World War II, and stretching over four
years, a parade of scrap drives kept citizens busy. The drives started
by collecting aluminum before moving into a wide range of products such
as tires, paper, tin, household fats, silk stockings, and even coats
for Russian refugees. Through it all, Oregonians combined a strong community
spirit with fierce competition to salvage countless tons of products
vital to the American war effort. Salvaging represented yet another way that
Americans could contribute to the war effort in concert with other wartime
programs. And the process
was once again driven by shortages of vital materials such as rubber,
tin, and steel. In the overall effort, the conservation
movement
worked to reduce the consumption of war related materials; rationing
attempted to fairly distribute the scarce commodities; and the salvage
effort aimed
to hunt down every last pound of material that could be used to win the
war. (listen to Fats Waller sing
"Cash for Your Trash" about salvage efforts.-via Marr Sound Archives)

Driving the drives
Government public relations campaigns spearheaded the effort to educate
and mobilize every American to participate in scrap drives. As with the
calls for conservation of valuable resources, officials persistently
reminded citizens about how their seemingly inconsequential contribution
would become monumental when multiplied by the efforts of other citizens
nationwide. Jack Bristol, a Portland public relations expert, offered
advice to an Oregon State Defense Council official to "drive home to
the individual that what HE saves is important. One discarded toothpaste
tube is admittedly not worth a tinker's damn --- but if ALL the tubes
that are squeezed dry and discarded in Portland every morning were gotten
together, they would constitute a respectable poundage of pure tin." (view
PDF-3 pages)(1)

Comparisons also drove home the value of salvaging materials. Thus, the amount
of rubber salvaged from one old tire could provide 20 parachute troopers
with boots
or make
12 gas masks. A
thousand old galoshes collected during a scrap drive could provide all
of the
rubber to make a medium-sized bomber. And since the scrap drives
would be weighing the collected materials, officials also provided weight
comparisons to give people some context for their efforts. For example,
a light tank required 489 pounds of rubber--just the tracks alone consumed
317 pounds. And volunteers would have to work long and hard to outfit
a battleship, needing 165,000 pounds to complete the job. (view
PDF-1 page)(2)
Officials didn't want people to destroy possessions that were still
being used for their original purposes, but they made comparisons nonetheless: "How
the beauty parlor goes to war; The iron that used to go into a single
hair dryer is enough for six hand grenades." and "The Lumber in
two average desks would provide enough material to build a trailer for
a war
worker."(3)

Comparing the salvaging efforts of the enemy with those of Americans could
also spur higher achievement. In May 1943 officials quoted famed war correspondent
Ernie Pyle who described German salvage work during a retreat:

The Germans leave very clean country behind
them. Their salvage organization must be one of the best in the world --
probably because of desperate necessity. We've gone all over the Tunisian
country from which they have fled and evidences that they have been there
are slight. You see burned-out tanks in the fields, and some wrecked scout
cars and Italian trucks lying in roadside ditches, and that is about all.
Nothing is left behind that is repairable. Wrecked cars are stripped of
their tires, instruments, and lights. They leave no tin cans, boxes or
other junk.(4)

In relation to the German retreat, an Oregon State Salvage Committee official
added the commentary that "when you're running like heck, with an Allied
bayonet close to your pants and still have to stop for salvage, its' importance
is more than obvious. Salvage committees don't have to work under that
handicap. We are not retreating. We face no dangers here save public apathy
and indifference. But salvage is no less necessary on the peaceful home
front in order to adequately support our boys on the war front who have
to face the bayonets."(5)

A Devilishly Clever Idea?

Conde
McCullough had a bright idea about how to salvage more rubber. (Image
courtesy Oregon Blue Book)

Conde McCullough, a top State Highway Department official
and designer of a number of Oregon's most beautiful bridges, offered
an idea to salvage scrap rubber from the mail posts lining the roads
of the state.

In McCullough's words: "Last Monday I drove from Coquille
to the California Line on Highway No. 101. I noticed that at practically
every rural mail box there was a device, consisting of a wooden post,
one-half of an old automobile tire, and some sort of a clip gadget
which looked like a mouse trap, the purpose of the ensemble, I presume,
being to assist the rural mail carrier in picking up and distributing
the mail, without unduly fatiguing him."

McCullough went on to sketch the device and praise
it, saying that it "is devilishly clever and ranks with the incandescent
light and the cotton gin among America's great inventions. If I knew
who thought this up first I would recommend that he be decorated
with the Croix de guerre and elected into Phi Beta Kappa...."

However, McCullough quickly shifted to recommending
that all of this great engineering be yanked from the mail posts
in the interest of the war effort: "...there must be nearly
half a ton of old scrap rubber utilized in these various installations.
I presume
that the property owners will kick but it appeared to me that in
the present emergency they might be induced to get along with some
sort of a gooseneck or bracket constructed of timber, in lieu of
the rubber tire."(18)

Organizing the salvage efforts
Oregonians salvaged everything from rags to rubber to rope through a cooperative
process involving the federal War Production Board (WPB) and the Oregon
State Defense Council. Created in 1942, the 46 volunteer members of the
Oregon State Salvage Board, under the WPB, planned programs and set policies
and procedures for salvage efforts statewide. The defense council in turn
was responsible for coordinating and mobilizing volunteer efforts in conjunction
with local
salvage committees. By early 1943, every county in Oregon had a committee
and an additional 273 local committees were in operation.

Along with
the highly publicized consumer scrap drives, WPB officials also sought
out industrial scrap, old automobiles, and even special sources such
as the rails from Portland's unused streetcar lines. Scrap drives came
and went over the years depending on the particular shortages of the
moment. Thus, rubber was urgently needed early in the war, leading to
millions of old
tires rolling into collection centers. Later, the need for rubber was
less
intense but the need for brass and bronze increased.(6)

Can kitchen fats win the war?
While a wide variety of scrap drives occurred over the years, those related
to kitchen fats and scrap paper illustrated the general process involved.
Kitchen fats and greases would seem, on the surface, to be odd materials
to be fervently collecting in the midst of a world war, but officials
had their reasons. The fats contained a significant amount of glycerine
that could be used in explosives. Glycerine was valuable to the war effort
in other ways too, including as an antiseptic, a medicinal solvent, in
cellophane and glassine packaging, and as treatment for sunburn and other
skin irritations. The need for salvaging kitchen fats was heightened
by the "complete shut-off of our vegetable oil supply from the Philippines
and the Dutch East Indies by the Japanese...." Despite drastic curtailment
of the use of glycerine in civilian products such as soap, cosmetics,
lotions, candy, and gum, shortages still persisted and fueled the long
running salvage efforts.(7)

Enlarge image
Posters made the dramatic connection between kitchen fats and the
production of munitions. (Image no. ww1645-52 courtesy Northwestern
University)

As with most other scrap drives, officials on the national and state levels
set quotas for the amount of kitchen fats they expected to be collected.
The national quota for 1943, for example, was 200 million pounds. Oregon's
share of the quota was 2,340,000 pounds, which averaged out to about 195,000
pounds per month. That would be a tall order based on the state's past
efforts that failed to top 64,000 per month. Still, state officials remained
upbeat about their prospects of meeting the quota, saying that "despite
the educational and promotional campaigns which have been carried on so
splendidly by our county and unit salvage committees, the maximum available
amount of fats has yet to be 'tapped.'" Even so, they acknowledged the
challenge: "Needless to state, it's not going to be an easy job to attain
these quotas, especially with the advent of meat rationing looming in the
near future [presumably resulting in less kitchen fats]. BUT IT CAN BE
DONE." There
was no letup in the quota system--a later quota put Oregon's pride on the
line for four million pounds a year.(8)

Salvage officials provided instructions, and even quizzes (view
PDF-5 pages)(9),
to help consumers efficiently save kitchen fats and greases and meet the
ever present quota:
"You can help attain this quota, Mrs. Housewife, by saving your pan drippings,
lard and vegetable shortening and all waste kitchen greases. Be sure to
strain your fats, pour them into a wide-mouthed can, keep in a cool or
refrigerated space and then, after you have one to two pounds of the materials,
take them to your meat market. The butcher will pay you for them and start
them on their way toward war industries." Transportation of the kitchen
fats, once collected, proved to be a problem for some remote communities
such as Lostine in Wallowa County. Volunteers there had collected a large
amount of tallow that had gone rancid before it could be delivered for
rendering. A state official sternly reminded a Lostine salvage volunteer
that "the government, on this kitchen Fats program, must have clean,
clear, free-from-water fats; and if this quantity of tallow has been standing
for quite sometime in Lostine, where probably there has been no refrigeration,
we doubt very much if it would have any particular explosive glycerine
value." The official suggested a call to the Consolidated Freightways
Inc. office ten miles away in Enterprise to try to arrange for future pickups.(10)

Silk Stockings Go to War

In
one of many unlikely pairings, ladies silk and nylon stockings played
an important part in winning the war. At the time, silk was the only
material out of which powder bags could be made. Powder bags contained
the charge of gunpowder used in firing the "big guns." Silk
was completely destroyed during the firing, unlike other materials
that left a residue, which required cleaning the gun between shots.

The caption to this cartoon reads: "If I can put
up with painted stockings, what's wrong with having your socks mended
likewise?" (Folder
5, Box 30, Defense Council, OSA)

Nylon stockings could be melted, respun into nylon thread, and manufactured
into war products such as parachutes. With their silk and nylon stockings
drafted into the war effort, stylish women needed alternatives. Many
used leg make-up, otherwise know as "bottled stockings," that could
last up to three days assuming no baths were taken. Some women even
used eyebrow pencils to paint faux stocking seams on the backs of
their legs. Sacrifice, and ingenuity it seems, were
boundless! (view PDF)(19)

Paper Troopers march for salvage
Paper drives also proved to be a common form of salvage during the war.
A 1942 estimate found that the nation needed well over 20 million tons
of paper for the war and associated uses, with a goal of seven million
tons coming from salvaged paper. The versatile product found its way
into "several hundred thousand items used by the armed forces" such
as blood plasma containers, K-ration cartons, shell casings, vaccine boxes,
and bullet cartons. Once again, officials took steps to limit civilian
use. For instance, the amount of newsprint allocated to publishers was
reduced to 75 percent of normal consumption. Still, by 1944, WPB chairman
Donald M. Nelson was warning that "the shortage of wood pulp and available
waste paper at the paper mills is becoming increasingly critical. The
demands of the mills for paperboard containers and paper products for
shipment of supplies to all battlefronts is growing constantly."(11)

The WPB studied reports of school waste paper salvage campaigns across the
country to put together a new program designed to enhance efforts by students.
The program created "an army of paper salvagers" called "Paper Troopers."
According to program literature, the name was no accident, since it had
"a resemblance to the name Paratroopers, those daring raiders dropped from
the sky behind enemy lines, and should, therefore, have a tremendous appeal
to pupils. Boys nowadays live in terms of fighting adventure and the paper
trooper emblem will make a strong appeal to them. It will appeal to girls,
too." Students who excelled at paper collection could "advance in rank"
and earn additional chevrons that would serve as "public acknowledgement
of their achievements." They could also earn certificates of merit for
themselves and for their schools.(12)

WPB officials urged teachers to get involved
too, saying that "almost every teacher can find some way of working the
Waste Paper Salvage theme into his current classroom assignments." For
example, in dramatics class the students could do a skit on "the story
of waste paper and the war." Social studies teachers could highlight
the role of paper in modern life and arithmetic teachers could have their
students
account for the paper received and the funds resulting from its sale,
while shop teachers could challenge their pupils to construct a paper baler.
Because of "the rising rate of juvenile delinquency," officials also wanted
to set up activities during school vacations. They reasoned that the continuing
work would serve two purposes: it would add to the paper salvage totals; and it would help
students "develop their competence as youthful citizens and turn their
energies into wholesome constructive channels at a period when there is
great pressure to divert them into non-constructive and even anti-social
channels."(13)

A cowboy hauls in scrap from the range for the salvage
effort. (Folder 16, Box 28, Defense Council,
OSA)

Harnessing the community spirit
Paper Troopers and other salvage programs harnessed both cooperative and
competitive instincts within communities. Each level, from the state down
to the neighborhood or school, saw constant jockeying for bragging rights.
Thus,
all of the citizens of Oregon could be rightfully proud of
the state's ranking of number two out of all 48 states in both iron/steel
and silk/nylon stocking salvage on a per capita basis in 1943.(14) Tiny
Powers High School, with an enrollment of 45, won acclaim for what was
thought to be the national record for the collection of scrap by students
in 1942, with each child collecting nearly 14,000 pounds. Meanwhile, Portland's
Lincoln High School collected 200 tons of scrap making it the champion
of total poundage. This sort of friendly competition continued throughout
the war as "scrappers" of all ages vied for evidence of their prowess
and patriotism.(15)

State salvage officials fanned the flames of community rivalries by regularly
publishing local accomplishments. Thus, readers learned that young people
in Corvallis held a "scrap matinee" at a local theater and gathered
a truckload of "much-needed" copper, brass, and aluminum. Meanwhile, "one
thousand Klamath Falls kiddies, each bearing a batch of tin cans, bore
down on a
local theater" for another matinee, this time in conjunction with the
Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, and Campfire Girls organizations. By the end of
the show, 5,250 pounds of cans had been salvaged. Clatsop County contributed
over 12 tons of waste fats and nearly 1,000 pounds of silk and nylon stockings
while Portland put up big numbers by filling 23 train carloads of tin.(16)

Local
efforts, such as those in the La Grande area, proved to be inspiring as
J.H. Bratton reported to the Oregon State Defense Council in 1942: "The
salvage program is in full blast and the committees are obtaining splendid
cooperation from the public. One wrecking concern informed me that they
are turning in around 12 tons of old tires and that they ship a carload
of scrap-iron every other day. All service stations are piled high with
rubber salvage. I have met a number of farmers bringing in scrap-iron and
rubber in pick-ups and trucks on the road. It is astonishing the amount
of waste that is being gathered up."(17)